A Simple Spring: A Seasons of Lancaster Novel

by Rosalind Lauer

  “Susie needs someone to take her for a checkup,” Adam explained. “Jonah, Gabe, and I are tied up with the new equipment that should be here any minute. Nate and his sons are on their way, and Mary and Remy have their hands full preparing lunch for all the men who’ve come to help out.”

  Sadie frowned, wishing Adam had explained all that to her instead of just trying to order her around. Still, she hated to miss work … as well as band practice.

  “And you are supposed to be at your job?” Mammi Nell asked Sadie, who nodded. Creases formed around the older woman’s mouth as she mulled it over. “And this is what the two of you are snapping about on this beautiful morning?”

  Sadie and Adam both looked down at the ground.

  “Adam, you are the head of this family now, but sometimes a parent forgets what it’s like to be a young person.”

  Sadie couldn’t resist a peek as he lifted his face. Adam had left home when he was eighteen, and only the deaths of their parents had brought him back. Sadie knew that he regretted leaving, but he didn’t speak of his adventures in the world.

  “Do you remember your own rumspringa?” their grandmother asked him.

  His brown eyes were warm with regret beneath the brim of his straw hat. “I do, Mammi.”

  “Don’t forget it. And Sadie, your brother Adam is a good man, and a family must follow the man at the head of the table. You must listen to Adam and try to help.” Sunlight flashed on Mammi’s glasses as she looked from Sadie to Adam. “Now, the two of you can work this out in peace, ya? If Sadie cannot get out of work at the hotel, maybe you’ll find a driver to take you to Dr. Trueherz’s clinic. It’s too late to hire anyone, but you might try a friend. Maybe Lucy Kraybill or Nancy Briggs. If that doesn’t work, I’ll take Susie myself.”

  Sadie’s eyes went wide at the thought of her grandmother driving a buggy to Paradise. Although she was moved by Mammi’s offer of help and glad to have her grandmother on her side, she worried about the older woman driving an open buggy for nearly thirty miles. With local farmers working their fields, there was much traffic on the roads these days, and Mammi got tired easily.

  “The appointment is at ten,” Adam said hesitantly, and Sadie sensed that he shared her concern about their grandmother’s driving. “But Sadie can go to the phone shanty and see if she can contact someone to drive.”

  “Gut.” Mammi wiped crumbs of soil from her gloves. “You work it out, and don’t let me hear angry voices again.” She turned toward the garden to go back to her weeding.

  “I’ll ride my scooter to the phone shanty. I’ll try to find a driver,” Sadie said as she and Adam headed toward the farmhouse. Once she was out of sight of the house she could stop and try her cell phone, but she usually didn’t get a strong signal out here in “the boondocks,” as Frank called it.

  “You can try. But if you can’t find anyone, this is your responsibility, Sadie. I don’t want the chore passed on to Mammi.”

  Sadie bit back an angry answer. She wanted to point out that her brother could have explained the circumstances better, that he could have told her Mary and Remy were busy. She also would have agreed that Mammi wasn’t fit to make this trip. But she kept mum. It wouldn’t be right to argue. Adam was in charge.

  She was glad when he turned off toward the milking barn. “Mind you get Susie there on time,” he said before pulling his hat down and striding away.

  Oh, how she wished it was proper to speak her mind. She had a few things she would tell brother Adam. Why did he wait until the last minute to tell her that Susie needed a ride to the doctor’s today?

  Her oldest brother had become mean and bossy, so different from Dat. Their dat had believed in letting all living things fulfill their potential. It was one of the reasons that Levi King had turned this farm into a sort of sanctuary for birds and frogs and all of God’s creatures. Dat would not have been so critical of Sadie. This wouldn’t be happening if Mamm and Dat were here.

  But Gott had chosen to take them.

  And so Adam was the head of their family now, which made things difficult for Sadie. Here she was, eighteen years old, and still being treated like a young girl who’d just as soon skip through the meadow as she would take care of the livestock. Sadie was a hard worker, but Adam didn’t see that. He didn’t see her baking or cleaning or mucking the barn. The only time Adam seemed to notice her was when she was going against Amish ways by heading into town on her own or singing along with her iPod, a device not allowed by the Amish but tolerated as one of the Englisher things teenagers explored in rumspringa.

  Rumspringa allowed Sadie a bit of freedom here and there, but it was not the wild time the Englisher people talked about. Amish youth were still expected to follow the Ordnung, the system of unwritten rules that had been upheld by their families and brethren over many years. The Ordnung was to be strictly adhered to, especially by baptized members. Under the Ordnung, there was a rule for every part of your day, from the clothes you wore to the way a farmer plowed his field.

  All of her life Sadie had followed these rules. They were part of her nature now, and most of the time Sadie loved her life here in Lancaster County. From planting to harvest, from sunrise to sunset, days on the farm were chock-full of work and rich with love and laughter. For all her fun with the band and her music, Sadie was always happy to come home at the end of the day and drop off to sleep in the big room upstairs that she shared with her younger sisters.

  She was in a pickle. Though her heart told her to cherish and follow her music, she didn’t fully understand the Lord Gott’s plan for her. There wasn’t really a place for a girl singer in the Amish community, and yet she wanted to abide by the rules of the Ordnung and still allow her gift to grow.

  It was as if she were trying to capture night and day in a single jar.

  And Adam didn’t have the first clue about her problem.

  Her jaw was still set with resentment as she toed off her sneakers on the screened porch, ignoring the clatter of the kitchen, where one breakfast shift was finishing. She swung the pail of eggs through the kitchen doorway, nearly mowing down her younger brother Simon, who was about to leave for school.

  His eyes were wide as quarters as he held his lunch cooler against him. “What’s the matter, Sadie? You look grumpy as Lumpig.”

  Sadie sucked a breath in through her teeth and shook her head. “Never mind.” She put the pail of eggs on the counter with a thump that brought a stern look from her older sister, Mary. “You’ll understand when you get older.”

  “Older folk always say that to me, but I don’t think so.” Simon took his straw hat from a peg on the wall. “I don’t think I’ll ever understand.”

  “A wise boy,” Jonah said, pressing his own hat to his chest. Twenty-three-year-old Jonah was only a year younger than Adam, but very different, with a quiet manner and a true knack for farming. “And you’re probably right, Simon. I don’t think we’ll ever understand the goings-on in a woman’s head.”

  Simon hid a grin behind the brim of his hat, and Sadie couldn’t help but crack a smile. Such a tender heart, their Simon. It was always good to see merriment in his eyes.

  “Off with you now, or you’ll be late for school,” Mary said, shooing Simon out the door. “I reckon Ruthie and Leah are already halfway down the lane.”

  “But I’m a fast runner. Don’t forget, I run with the horses.”

  “Let’s see how fast,” Jonah said, stepping out the door behind Simon.

  “Good thing they’re gone,” Sadie said, sorting through the eggs. “Simon is so attached to Adam, I didn’t want to say anything in front of those young ears, but Adam is picking on me again. We got into it right in front of the Doddy house, and Mammi was none too happy about it.”

  Mary let out a breath as she nodded toward the egg pail. “There’s a crack on that one. Quarreling with Adam or not, you’ve got to take it easy with the eggs. Next time take your anger out in the cowshed. Manure doesn’t break.”

 
“It’s only two that cracked,” Sadie said as she gently transferred the eggs. “I’ll cook them now. Scrambled or fried?”

  “Scrambled, and I’ll add them to the sausage casserole. That’ll help me stretch it out. Simon and Ruthie had big appetites this morning. They must be having a growing spurt.” Mary turned the flame up under the coffee. “And what were you and Adam going round about this fine spring morning?”

  Sadie’s lips hardened. “What don’t we fight about? He made it my chore to take Susie to see Dr. Trueherz, and I don’t mind that one bit, but if I go I’m going to be late for my job at the hotel. And Adam doesn’t care at all.”

  “Oh, Sadie.” Mary glanced up from the stove, her hazel eyes heavy with sympathy. “Why is it so hard for you to follow Adam’s rules and decisions? He’s the head of the household now, and the weight of it all is heavy on his shoulders. You know he doesn’t want to argue with you.”

  “I know that.” Sadie felt her spirits sag. She never wanted to cause trouble, but somehow, when she tried to reason with Adam, she always managed to step right into it. “But he could have told me about Susie’s appointment earlier in the week. I could have talked to my boss at the hotel.”

  Mary just nodded. “That’s all water under the bridge. What worries me is you and Adam. Storm clouds darken the sky overhead whenever you two speak.”

  Sadie snickered at the notion of black clouds following Adam and her. “You’re right. We’re always butting heads, and I don’t know what to do about it.”

  “We’ll pray to the Heavenly Father for peace in our house. I know you don’t mean to stir the pot, but mind you keep quiet when Adam gives an order. I shouldn’t have to tell you that Adam’s decisions are more important than your boss at the hotel.”

  Sadie nodded. This she knew, but she was always juggling so many things—her music and her chores, her job at the hotel and her English boyfriend—sometimes her sense of order wasn’t so clear.

  “Now, open that jar of peaches while I get the biscuits before they burn. In a few weeks we’ll have fresh cherries and strawberries. Summer fruits.”

  “Did you know the honeysuckle is blooming?” Sadie said. “Spring is my favorite season.”

  “Because of the honeysuckle?”

  “Because of the new life everywhere. Remember how Dat used to get so excited when the birds came back?”

  “Back from their winter vacation down south, he used to say.” Mary’s face glowed with the memory.

  Their dat had taught them to respect all of God’s creatures, and though he’d been gone for more than a year now, Sadie still felt Gott’s peace when she worked their farm—the peace their father had opened their eyes to.

  Sadie missed her parents, but she was grateful for all they had taught her. If Dat had shown them peace, Mamm had helped Sadie delight in song. Was Sadie the only one who remembered the sweet lullabies Mamm had sung for them when they were babies, with her voice as fresh and smooth as a spring wind?

  “Tell me why the stars do shine,” she sang as she broke the seal on the peaches.

  Without looking up, Mary joined in. “Tell me why the ivy twines. Tell me why the sky’s so blue. And I will tell you just why I love you.”

  If Sadie closed her eyes she could almost hear Mamm’s voice chiming in. Mamm had taught her how music could make the most boring chore pass quickly, and they had spent many an hour in this very kitchen singing together.

  “Because God made the stars to shine,” the sisters sang together.

  As she put the peaches on the table, Sadie’s eyes combed the mouthwatering breakfast Mary had prepared for this second shift of the day, after the children under fifteen had eaten and headed out to school. Sausage-and-egg casserole. Biscuits. Peppers and peaches from the pantry.

  Sadie felt a sudden swell of tenderness for the older sister who had stepped in to care for their household after Mamm had died. Mary took care of everyone in so many ways, always guided by a calm that kept peace in their home. But come wedding season, Mary would be starting a home with her beau, Five, on the Beilers’ farm.

  “Sadie?” The song had ended and Mary stood staring at her, oven mitts on her hands. “What’s the matter?”

  “Oh, Mary, what will we do without you around here?”

  Mary patted her shoulder with the puffy mitt. “I’m not going far. And we know it’s all part of the Heavenly Father’s plan for me to leave this house. Remy’s going to be moving in, and you’re a mighty good cook yourself, when you don’t get too lost in all your singing.”

  Lost in her singing … lately Sadie had spent so much time with her music, practicing with the band or singing in the barn. Funny, but it was far easier to imagine herself singing on a stage in front of people than cooking up an entire breakfast like this.

  And that thought tugged on her conscience as she went to the porch to call the others for breakfast. Here on the farm, work was proper and good. Her faith gave meaning to every sunrise, every blooming violet. And the close bond of family showed her that she belonged here.

  Not singing to strangers in the big city.

  TWO

  I love riding in cars,” Susie said a few hours later as they rolled past green fields of short cornstalks beginning to find their way to the sun.

  “And in this weather, I like the charm of an open buggy. Isn’t it funny how the grass is always greener on the other side?” Nancy Briggs, their friend and the mayor of Halfway, had agreed to give them a ride, telling them she had some business to take care of in the neighboring town.

  “We’re on our way to Paradise,” Nancy teased as she passed a horse and buggy that had slowed at the side of the road. “I just love saying that.”

  Sadie laughed, and Susie clapped her hands together in joy. “We’re headed for Paradise!”

  As soon as Nancy had pulled up at the farm, Susie had enthusiastically requested the front seat, the windows open, and the radio on. Nancy had warned that Sadie might get blown around in the backseat, but she was willing to give it a try.

  With the air teasing at the strings of her prayer Kapp and the music of the radio swirling around her, Sadie was very comfortable in the backseat of Nancy’s Jeep. Her spirit was lifting again, now that Nancy had come to their rescue. She would make it to work and band rehearsal, and going to the doctor with Susie was a lot more fun than weeding the garden or scrubbing the floors. Besides, it was time Sadie learned more about Susie’s condition since Mary would be leaving them in the fall.

  The doctor’s office was in a small white building that looked like it used to be a house. Although Dr. Trueherz treated many Amish folk, he wasn’t Plain himself, and the building had electricity. Sadie noticed the electric pole as they pulled up. She climbed out of the Jeep and patted the cell phone tucked into her jeans pocket under her dress. Maybe there was cell service here. While Susie was being examined, she could pass the time talking with Frank.

  “I’ll plan to head back here in an hour or so,” Nancy said through the open window. “But you can call me if you finish up early.”

  Susie led the way inside to a small waiting room filled with a sofa and chairs, where a handful of people were waiting. A hole had been cut into one of the walls, and a woman in her fifties worked at the little desk area there.

  “Well, if it isn’t Smiley King,” the woman said, one brow arched over her gray eyes.

  Sadie couldn’t help but smile herself. Smiley was a good description for fourteen-year-old Susie, who always managed to look on the bright side of things.

  “It’s Susie King.” Susie leaned on the counter, grinning. “But you know that, Mrs. Trueherz. You always remember me.”

  “How could I forget you, Smiley? I was just saying we needed a bright star like you to liven things up around here. And who did you bring along today, Smiley?”

  “This is my sister Sadie.”

  “I’ve been here before,” Sadie said. “Once when I had strep throat.”

  “And once was enough for y
ou, right?” the woman teased.

  “I’m thankful to have been blessed with a good throat since then,” Sadie said.

  “You can have a seat if you like, Sadie. Your sister will be examined, then you can both meet with the doctor. And in the meantime, I’ll get you the family report to fill out.” The woman pulled a file from her stack. “The doctor will see you in a few minutes, Smiley. While you’re hanging around here, let’s make sure I know where to find you. Still living in Halfway?”

  “Yes, ma’am.”

  “And this is still your date of birth?” She slid the form over to Susie, who nodded.

  “Well, I’m glad that hasn’t changed,” Celeste Trueherz said dryly.

  Susie pressed a hand to her mouth to muffle a giggle. “Mrs. Trueherz, my date of birth is never going to change.”

  “I know, but I just have to be sure,” the older woman said. “Dr. Trueherz has a slew of questions for you, but I’ll let him do the hard part. Have a seat.”

  As soon as she sat beside her sister, Sadie remembered the calls she needed to make. “I’m going to step outside and call the hotel, just to say I might be late.”

  Around the side of the gravel parking lot was a little patio with a wooden picnic table near a neatly trimmed hedge. Sadie was glad for the bit of privacy behind the green bushes, as she had to hike up her skirt to fish the cell phone from her pocket. She called the hotel, but Lorraine, who worked the front desk, said Mr. Decker was in a meeting. Pacing along the patio, Sadie explained that she was at the doctor’s with her sister, and that she would be late for her shift. “But I’m definitely coming in,” she said. “I’ll be there as soon as I can.”

  “I’ll tell him that,” Lorraine said, sounding bored.

  Next she called Frank, just to be reassured that the second half of her day was going to work out better.

  “Hey, how’s it going?” he asked.

  “Good, except I’m going to be late for work,” she said. When she started to explain what had happened, Frank cut her off.